Amortentia
by edgefag
Summary: How Ron's love potion fiasco in his sixth year SHOULD have turned out.  Romilda/Ron/Hermione, one shot.


Romilda grinned into the goblet of pumpkin juice. Finally, after the Chocolate Cauldrons had failed at Christmas, she was going to succeed in winning Harry's affection. Now, he usually sat next to the Granger girl at breakfast, but as Romilda strode down the length of the Gryffindor table she realized that Hermione was sitting alone. Cursing, she decided to take her chances.

As usual, Granger had her nose buried in a textbook. Romilda quietly replaced the goblet at the empty seat next to her with the one in her hand. Any minute now, Harry would come into the Great Hall, take a sip of his drink, and finally admit his love for Romilda Vane. Holding her dark, curly-haired head high and puffing her chest out proudly, she marched away to the common room. Any minute now.

* * *

><p>Ronald Weasley was hanging by his ankle from the ceiling of the sixth years' dormitory, his robes dangling over his head as Harry pointed his wand at him, chest heaving.<p>

"_What was that for?"_ Harry bellowed.

"You insulted her, Harry! You said it was a joke!" shouted Ron, who was slowly turning purple in the face as all the blood rushed to his head.

"This is insane!" said Harry. "What's gotten into—?"

And then, noticing the half-empty box of Chocolate Cauldrons lying on Ron's bed, Harry realized what had happened, and a huge grin spread across his face as an idea struck him. Giving up the fight to keep a straight face, he smirked up at Ron, whose anger had subsided and was now sighing Romilda Vane's name with a gaping grin of his own on his crimson face.

"I can introduce you to her, if you'd like," snickered Harry. Ron jerked his head at this, succeeding only in getting a mouthful of robes.

"Would you really do that for me? I don't think I can go another minute without seeing her face, Harry—"

"Well you're going to have to hold on for just a second while I go fetch her. Have another Cauldron while you're waiting." Harry sprung toward the door. _"Liberacorpus," _he added. Ron fell to the ground in a tangled, bemused heap. Shaking with silent laughter, Harry pounded down the spiral staircase. This was going to be hilarious . . .

* * *

><p>Hermione was on the verge of tears as she read the chapter in her Astronomy book on Neptune's moons—she was a month ahead of the rest of the class, but Professor Sinistra was going dreadfully slow this term. Harry had promised to meet her for breakfast, but must have abandoned her to celebrate Ron's birthday, stupid Ron, arrogant Ron, lazy, childish, beautiful Ron . . .<p>

She absentmindedly reached for her goblet of pumpkin juice; finding it empty, she picked up the one that would have been Harry's had her bothered to show up. Why did Won-Won require his company when he had darling Lavender to fawn over him . . . . A lump formed in her throat as she drained the goblet furiously. How could he think that he could just . . . wait . . . how could who think what?

All of the misery dissipated and was replaced by pure confusion. Why, Hermione asked herself exasperatedly, collecting her book and swinging her bag over her shoulder, was she in here eating when she should be looking for Romilda? A blissful smile flooded her face as she broke into a run, exiting the Great Hall and flying toward Gryffindor Tower where she knew that the love of her life was awaiting her.

"Romilda," she cried gallantly, scattering a group of first-years, "I'm coming!"

* * *

><p>"Ginny," said Harry excitedly, having found her just downstairs at a table in the common room, "did you ever end up buying that love potion for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes last summer?"<p>

"Yeah, I did," she said, setting down her quill. "But if you think that's why Dean's been with me this whole time . . ."

"No, of course not—" the monster inside his chest growled at the mention of Dean's name—"can I borrow it?"

Ginny met his eyes quizzically and pointed her wand at the girl's staircase. _"Accio." _Seconds later, a small pink box flew into her hand, which she handed to Harry slowly, still looking perplexed. "Who . . ."

"You'll see," he grinned. "It's going to be hilarious." He turned and looked at the writing on the back of the little box. Halfway down, as he had hoped, he found the words, _To cause the drinker to fall in love with a witch or wizard other than yourself, simply picture that person's face while administering the potion. (Note: Weasley's Wizard Wheezes is not responsible for any injuries or emotional trauma sustained while using this potion to induce love between members of different species.)_

Romilda was sitting in an armchair near the fire, daintily sipping a bottle of Butterbeer and glancing at her watch anxiously. Harry approached her slowly, barely able to conceal his excitement, the little crystal bottle in his poised hand. Romilda's drink was lolling to one side as she stared in the other direction at the portrait hole. Now was his chance. Tiptoeing forward, Harry concentrated on Ron's face, he slowly tipped the bottle of Amortentia into the bottle of Butterbeer, he—why was Hermione running toward him?

Harry jumped back and watched in horror as Romilda raised the bottle to her lips; a second later, Hermione crashed into her. "I'm here," she whispered into her ear, and Romilda's facial expression changed from one of revulsion to soppy affection. Across the common room, Ginny raised her hand to her mouth and looked at Harry, who shook his head wildly.

"No," he insisted, "I didn't mean to . . . ." He looked helplessly at the two lovestruck girls as Romilda put a finger to Hermione's lips and offered her her hand. They rose from the armchair just as Ron appeared at the foot of the boy's staircase.

"What are you doing with _her?"_ he cried, advancing toward Romilda with a wounded look upon his face.

"What is he talking to you for?" demanded Hermione shrilly. Everyone in the common room was staring at them now.

"Both of you," Romilda pleaded, and Harry realized that this was about to get a bit more insane than he had intended, "if you really loved me, you would love each other, too." Her dark, sultry eyes looked from Ron to Hermione. There was a pause, and they latched together in a passionate three-way kiss. Together they ran and tripped, giggling, up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. The bystanders crowding the common room turned their heads at Harry bewilderedly.

"I just thought . . . it would be funny . . . if . . . ." he trailed off and, deciding that his four-poster bed was probably unsafe, headed out of the portrait hole.

* * *

><p>Ron's clothes came off first after they had locked the dormitory door behind them. He watched Romilda gasp and blink slowly as he pulled out his long, thin cock—gangly and ginger like the rest of him—and let his slacks drop to the red carpeted floor, kicking them off along with his trainers. Romilda tore away her robes and sweater, sacrificed a few buttons as she ripped her white shirt open, and unclasped her bra to let her big, soft breasts tumble out. Hermione squealed with delight and attacked them with her lips, flinging her own uniform away to reveal smaller but firmer breasts and a tight vagina adorned with neatly trimmed hair.<p>

Romilda fell backward onto one of the velvet-curtained beds, pulling her pants down smooth, silky, tanned legs and beckoning Ron forth. Hermione was pushed away in his eagerness but content to kiss Romilda's lips as Ron slid their dark-haired queen's lacey panties down and discarded them. As Romilda felt him enter her, looking lovingly first from Hermione's closed eyes to Ron's glazed ones, she remembered that she had conveniently shaved down there in case of a chance encounter with some bespectacled boy whose name she couldn't quite remember.


End file.
